Lessons of the Candidates
by Nepugia
Summary: CPU Candidates are goddesses-in-training. As such, they must learn harsh lessons before they are worthy of succeeding the throne.
1. Lastation

**Lastation: Pipe Dream**

Uni's black dress stuck to her skin, with her sweat as the adhesive. In contrast, Noire, at least from Uni's perspective, looked as cool as an ocean.

"Uni, think back on your footwork. Even the slightest imperfection will introduce enough error to throw you off in the end."

Noire sternly spoke while walking. Uni, who was trailing behind her, merely stared forlornly at her back.

"You almost broke though and landed a hit on me, but you got overconfident at the end," lectured Noire, "It's never over until the very very end. Remember that."

"...Yes, Onee-chan," said Uni as she gripped her black skirt.

The two arrived at the dining room in the Basilicom. A curry rice dinner was already set out on the table. This was not the handiwork of Basilicom staff. Rather, the staff merely heated up what Noire had cooked.

The two sisters sat down across from each other. Noire immediately began to spoon rice into her mouth. In contrast, Uni picked at the meat covered in curry sauce with her spoon for a while before meekly nibbling at her food half a spoonful at a time.

"What's wrong, Uni? No appetite?" casually asked Noire, "Doing goddess things is difficult without having the energy, you know."

A load was weighing on Uni's mind. With the earlier failure, that load increased by many Newtons.

Uni put down her spoon. She fixed her collar and straightened her skirt, despite the latter being underneath the table.

"Onee-chan, I want to do a quest."

Noire sighed deeply.

"Uni, I still don't think you're ready. Even more so with today's performance."

"But—"

"No, you're only asking to get yourself killed. Not unless you give me a good reason."

Uni took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts.

"Onee-chan, the citizens are mistrusting the police lately."

Noire flicked her black hair and responded, "Yes. I'm well-aware of that."

Police shootings have shot up drastically in Lastation over the past year. Most of the citizens have inferred that law enforcement has been getting too violent, too tyrannical. In particular, those of Planeptune ethnicity felt there was racism of the Lastation police against them and have held numerous Planeptune Lives Matter protests.

"Because the trust in the police has fallen so low, I want to do something to make citizens believe in us again," said Uni.

Noire tilted her head in skepticism, "And that involves doing a quest?"

"A hostage rescue."

Uni placed a quest bulletin issued by the guild onto the dining table. The behest was as follows. A teenage girl had been abducted by a well-known group of terrorists, and they were demanding a ransom. The case was ordinary as far as terrorist-related activities went. Indeed, just like the ordinary blue-collar worker, the terrorists participated in their own ordinary vile acts to obtain funds.

"I'm going to rescue her. I'm going to do it without letting a single person get killed. This is the best way to restore the public's trust in law enforcement."

Noire sighed in disappointment and said, "Uni... do you have any idea what you're saying? There are no guarantees in this line of work."

"Even so!" hounded Uni, "Even so, if we take this risk, then we could get a high reward, Onee-chan! Desperate times call for desperate measures!"

"Uni. You haven't done something like this before. Looking down your sights at a human being is a little different than looking down your sights at a Pox Vader," cautioned Noire.

Uni nodded and said, "I know, Onee-chan. Difference in tactics."

Noire, as well, placed down her spoon. She crossed her arms and thought deeply about something. Uni shuffled her legs. A different kind of sweat glistened on her back.

"Alright, Uni. I suppose this is as good as time as any. But I'll be coming with you, and you'll do exactly as I say," sternly spoke Noire.

Overjoyed, Uni rocketed up from her chair.

"Thank you so much, Onee-chan!" she exclaimed with all of her might, "Finally... finally... I can take a step closer to you..."

Noire stared at her cute little sister with a resigned smile, expectant of folly, the only certainty in the life of a goddess.

* * *

Lastation had parts that were flourishing and industrious. However, the area that Noire and Uni overlooked from a distance was neither.

Dilapidated buildings and vandalized infrastructure abounded. Waste littered the cracked pavement, and human feces were strewn about.

There were few obvious signs of life. Few people wandered the haphazard streets. That did not mean that these slums were not inhabited. Certainly, hoodlums occupied dark corners, waiting to mug unsuspecting victims. The souls that did wander out in the open were either brave or stupid.

It was not impossible to salvage this no man's land. However, Noire, Kei and other knowledgeable people of Lastation universally agreed that the cost of doing so was too staggeringly high. Thus, this den of thieves was left as is, with guard stations and physical barriers in place to protect the good part of Lastation from this bad part of Lastation.

It was in this dark place where the S-ranked hostage rescue quest was to be taken place.

Processor units were set. Hard Drive Divinity was engaged.

A goddess's true powers were unleashed when they utilized processor units on their chest, head, back, sides, waist and legs. It was this privilege that separated Console Patron Units from normal humans.

In her goddess form, Noire — that is, Black Heart — wore not her serious frown in her human form but a wide, arrogant smile. Her cute twintails transformed into luscious, flowing snow white hair. The shortsword that she thrusts with in her human form was replaced with a large, mechanically enhanced broadsword. Unlike Purple Heart of Planeptune's giant greatsword, Black Heart's broadsword was still light enough for her to dance around her enemies with.

Uni — that is, Black Sister — had showy, drill-like snow hair on each side of her head in her goddess form. Her arms, if not crossed, was perpetually on her hips. Unlike her older sister, her transformation did not suddenly allot her time to play around. Rather, Black Sister's green eyes were sharp with cold determination, one that was a tempered version of her human form's confidence. Her human form's arsenal, whether it was a semi-automatic rifle, sniper rifle or a shotgun, was entirely replaced, in her goddess form, with a massive black rail gun cannon — the Ex Multi Blaster or XMB. Despite its size, Black Sister wields her cannon as freely as Black Heart wields her broadsword. Unlike how Purple Sister of Planeptune wields her Multiple Beam Launcher or MPBL, Black Sister expertly handles recoil and can accurately fire multiple shots from her XMB in quick succession.

"Now then... Uni."

Black Heart pointed her sword toward a wide circular U-turn.

"That's where the exchange will take place."

Black Heart patted the suitcase on the ground. It was filled with pillows.

"And up there—"

Black Heart shifted her sword upwards so that it pointed at the tallest of the dilapidated buildings.

"Uni, that is where you will wait. That is where you will shoot from."

"Understood, Onee-chan," solemnly spoke Black Sister.

Black Heart flicked her long hair to the side.

"Well then," she said with a restless grin, "Let's just hop right to it."

In her human form, Noire would have definitely said "let's start the mission" instead.

Black Sister nodded.

As if it were the signal, Black Heart jetted towards the U-turn. While also capable of flight, Black Sister chose to dash swiftly, yet quietly, towards her sniper's nest instead.

"Onee-chan didn't even need to say it. I need to do this stealthily," Black Sister whispered to herself as her drill-like hair whipped around in the wind.

Black Sister dashed to the back of a dumpster at a short distance from the building and hid herself. From this smelly vantage point, she scanned her battlefield.

As expected, the terrorists stationed henchmen to guard the building. It didn't take a genius to figure out the implications of having a tall building overlooking the site of the exchange.

"Two out front and three out the back," whispered Black Sister, "It's like the front and back are completely reversed."

Black Sister did not want to stereotype anything, but the way that the guards wore fashionable, metro clothing made them look like they were from the progressive, modern Planeptune. Black Sister did not want to assume anything. Even so, the thought that the guards were simple-minded in nature flashed through her mind.

"...If they are truly reversed, then the front will be easier to break in from than the back."

The option was binary: front or back. There were no others, at least none that would let her retain her element of surprise.

There was nothing else to indicate which side was less guarded. Therefore, she had to follow her intuition.

With unresolved cognitive dissonance, Black Sister shot both of the guards. Their limbs immediately became powerless, and they collapsed in a heap.

Yet, they were still breathing soundly.

"Like I said, I won't let a single person get killed."

She exchanged her tranquilizer rounds for live ammunition. Unfortunately, from here on out, there may not be a good opportunity to put her targets to sleep if they happened to become surprised and adrenaline-filled. Besides, even if they were, her XMB wasn't exactly the quietest weapon in Lastation. It would be a situation where, if it must be resorted to, it would already be too late.

Black Sister stepped over to the sleeping men who, upon closer inspection, had the most terrifyingly ugly faces she had seen so far in her life. Perhaps that was part of the reason that they were driven to this kind of life. She dragged them over to the dumpster and out of sight.

She silently slipped into the building through the front door. There were no sentries posted. Perhaps her intuition was right. She did not bother dispatching with the men out back as it would increase the risk of being caught and ruining the quest. She tiptoed up the stairs and onto the roof.

Black Sister laid down her XMB on the floor and equipped a bipod.

* * *

"False goddess. Leave credit on the floor right in front of me."

"Easy there big guy. You'll get your money when I'm sure you ain't going to shave any necks with that knife."

A man, who looks an awful lot like a Planeptune citizen, forcibly held the restrained girl, who was white in the face, and threateningly brandished a knife against her neck. It was the classical movie villain's stance, fitting for a classical movie villain scenario.

Despite thinking that and trying to make light of it, Black Heart could not help but feel her back become soaked in sweat.

She was waiting for the moment when the terrorist would carelessly lower his knife. As of now, if she tried to do anything, the poor girl would find a gaping red maw where her throat was.

"Repeat not again for you, false goddess. Ground the credits immediately," the terrorist demanded.

"Okay, okay, fine, fine, boss," said Black Heart before she sighed.

Black Heart, with her sword hung on her back, walked forward with the suitcase in hand. The terrorist gripped the knife harder and watched her movements carefully. The restrained girl's mouth awkwardly opened and closed repeatedly.

The suitcase was placed on the ground. With that done, Black Heart crossed her arms.

"Okay. Happy, big guy? Just drop that knife now, and everything will be over," she said.

At last, the knife was finally lowered, though not sheathed. Everyone, the terrorist included, relaxed just a little.

"The false goddess is a liar. Friend to come over and check," said the terrorist as he pointed backwards.

Another terrorist marched out from a dark alley. He made his way towards the suitcase.

Now, as planned, Black Sister should have been ready to shoot by now. Lastation's CPU waited for her dear sister to perform her duties as a goddess candidate.

Yet, even as the second terrorist began rummaging through the suitcase, no shot was hear around the block.

* * *

Black Sister was prone, and she was looking through her high-magnification scope. A terrorist with his captured girl was clearly seen through the scope.

She waited for the moment that the knife held near the throat of the girl would be moved away.

She saw her older sister place down a suitcase. Subsequently that knife was lowered. The time was now to utilize Black Sister's god-like aim to blow away an arm.

"Oh hell no, you little shit."

"Huh— GYAAAAAAAA!?"

An axe was swung down. Black Sister's back was crushed through. Towering over her, a one-eyed freak grinned in ecstasy.

"Oh, and while we're at it, dumbass..."

The freak, evidently another one of the terrorists, kicked Black Sister's behind. She was pelted forward, off the edge of the tall building, and was sent plunging downwards.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" screamed Black Sister.

Everything was far too sudden. It was only when she was halfway to becoming a pancake that she remembered that she could fly. Black Sister tried all of her might to accelerate upwards. Yet, it was too late. She slammed into the asphalt. The pain was so great that she her mouth opened but could not scream. The fact that she was alive underscored the difference between a human and a goddess.

Somehow, despite all of that, she had managed to cling onto her XMB. The warrior never lets go of her weapon.

She forced her damaged body to slowly get up. There was nothing that didn't hurt. Most of her processor units were beyond repair. Perhaps the remaining ones kept her body from collapsing. Or, perhaps it was due to sheer willpower.

But that willpower was shredded in an instant.

In front of Black Sister was Black Heart and the terrorist restraining the girl.

"What the— oh I see," the terrorist snarled, "Stupid false goddess. Trying the funny thing?"

"Wait, what are you—"

The terrorist plunged the knife into the restrained girl's stomach. He withdrew it and stabbed again in the same spot. Again and again and again. Again and again and again and again and again.

Two bloodcurdling cries filled the desolate air.

"False goddess. You will be brought to judgement."

The terrorist tossed aside both the bloodied knife and the corpse. He turned around and made a break for it.

"Y-You..."

Black Sister's mouth was agape.

"You bastard..."

Black Sister jetted to the terrorist and collided with his body. He was knocked off his feet, and he was pinned down by her foot.

She screamed, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Taking her XMB, she smashed the its butt into his head. A horrible cracking sound reverberated. She did it again, and his head squished. She raised her XMB yet again brought it down with the fury of a goddess. And again. Again and again and again. Again and again and again and again and again.

"Uni, that's enough," authoritatively spoke Black Heart.

Black Sister looked around her. Corpses of other terrorists were strewn about, each with one or two neat slices on their bodies. It seemed that they tried to attack the two during the commotion, but Black Heart disposed of them.

In contrast to those fallen swiftly, the corpse underneath Black Sister no longer had a head; chunks of it formed a putrid red mess on the pavement.

Black Sister dropped her prized XMB and stepped backwards in utter shock. Her legs lost strength, and she collapsed onto the ground like a string-less puppet. A stinging, burning load rose up her throat.

Black Heart solemnly spoke, "This... This is what's different, Uni. People... they act much more crudely, much more irrationally. That's why, Uni, your dream is too beautiful for reality."

Rancid, green, viscous, acidic juices seeped out of Black Sister's mouth. Undigested gruel dyed her black goddess armour.

* * *

 _The VIP was executed by the leader of the insurgents._

 _The rest of the insurgents were eradicated by us — Black Heart and Black Sister._

 _A clean-up crew was dispatched on-site._

 _The mission's primary objective was unfulfilled. However, the secondary objective has been successfully completed._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Black Heart_

Noire finished typing up her guild report. Thanks to protocols implemented by herself, she had to make plenty of addendums according to the messy nature of the result of the quest. She created more work for herself. She smiled to herself in self-deprecation.

"It's not like I enjoy working, but..." she whispered to herself.

A teapot filled with green leaves from Leanbox was sitting on her desk. A kettle with water had reached boiling, but Noire had turned it off a few minutes ago, letting it cool down a little. She poured the hot-but-not-boiling water into the teapot. The tea began to brew properly, without cooking the leaves. She put the teapot and a few cups on a platter. Picking them up, she exited her room and headed toward Uni's.

Noire knocked on Uni's door. Straight-laced Noire does at least this much, even if she usually opens the door immediately afterwards. However, this time's knocking was done for a different reason.

There was no response. Noire knocked twice more. She became uncomfortable and feared for the worst. With a shaking hand, Noire cranked open the unlocked door.

Inside, Uni was silently sitting, curled up in the fetal position, on her bed. Noire breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Uni, why don't you take a moment. I've brought some tea. You should thank Vert later," kindly spoke Noire.

Uni lifted up her face. Her eyes were swollen red. Dried blood cemented a vein-like network from her nose. Her hair was in disarray.

"Onee-chan..."

"Here, Uni."

Noire poured freshly infused tea into a teacup and handed it to Uni. Uni, after staring at the simmering cup for a while, took it into her weak hands and sipped.

Uni, again, spoke, "Onee-chan..."

"Hmm? What is it, Uni?"

"Being a goddess... being the leader is hard..."

Noire filled her own cup with tea and sat beside Uni on her bed.

"You see, Uni," said Noire as she looked up at the ceiling, "You are a CPU candidate, a goddess-in-training. That is, you will become the future goddess."

Noire paused to take a sip of tea. Uni turned her eyes over to her dear sister.

"You will lead a great nation. And, in doing so, you will stand alone."

"Stand alone?" Uni murmured.

"In other words," continued Noire, "You steer the wheel, but you cannot reach out."

Noire stood up. She reached out her empty right hand into the air, grasping nothing.

"It's silly, isn't it. Why aren't we omnipotent? We are nothing more than prime ministers with strengthened physical capabilities," said Noire as she stared off at something.

She continued, "Even as goddesses, we are confined to only the duties that we are able to do. And that means being unable to fulfill the duties that we were not set out to do."

Noire turned back to Uni, who was staring at her in suspense.

"Uni, you really are beautiful. And we can use that beauty to guide us. Yet, that beauty cannot aid the present as it is simply a shining lighthouse."

"Onee-chan... I think I get it," said Uni, slightly invigorated, "I don't like it, but, I guess it can't be helped, huh..."

"Yes. It can't be helped. Not as we are now," said Noire, nodding in resignation.

"Then, in that case, that was where I've failed. Standing alone? Hahahahaha!"

Noire was bewildered at Uni's sudden outburst.

"I've already... I've already bloodied my freaking hands! Onee-chan, there's nothing we can do as we are now. That's why I'll take this stupid little body, rip it open with my bloody hands, and squeeze together something that really can make us all live in harmony!"

Noire was amazed. Something broke within that dear little sister. Yet, old foundations needed to be broken for new foundations to be built.

"I... I'm not innocent anymore, Onee-chan..."

Uni's ecstasy left as quickly as it came. She wept. She mourned for the innocent lost female life. She cried for granting an unsightly death to that terrorist, even if he did deserve it. She wailed out of pain for her old, pure self that was now defiled and had become one step closer to being a true goddess.

Noire sat beside her in silence, granting her dear little sister comfort as she metamorphosed.


	2. Planeptune

**Planeptune: Remorseless**

The three terrorists walked silently and slowly through the dense woods. Each of them aimed their rifles in different directions. Their eyes were peeled, and their ears were open. They could not let a single noise be ignored or a let a moving figure be missed.

Suddenly, a thick beam shot out from the darkness of the brush. It accurately pierced through the chest, heart, and all of the man scouting out front. As he collapsed backwards in a heap, the remaining two simultaneously turned and fired several rounds into the bush. The bush writhed and writhed, far more than possible by bullets alone. When the two men stopped firing, the bush also stopped writhing.

The two armed men changed their magazines and cautiously approached the bush. As if triggering a trap, a massive, white blade extended from the bush and punctured the neck of one of the terrorists. Before the other terrorist could respond, a giant purple blade plunged through his back and escaped out front. As his vision, muscles and sense of feeling become less and less responsive, the blade was retracted, and his body dropped onto the ground like a sack.

"All clear. Nepgear, let's head back."

The wielder of the large purple greatsword rested her bloodied blade on her shoulder. Her firm, battle-hardened body showed no hints of injury. Her long, beautiful, purple hair was twisted in braids, and hardly served as a handicap in battle, given her god-like skill. Indeed, in battle, one could watch in her braids flinging around in awe as she delivered sweeping, deliberate strikes with her greatsword. Her ability to monstrously cleave an enemy in two contrasted with Black Heart's flurry of slices and thrusts. There was a consensus among many that this goddess, Purple Heart, was among the top in terms of brute force.

"Okay, Onee-chan."

A more petite goddess crawled out of the bush, stood up and dusted off her body. Unlike her sister, this goddess, Purple Sister, had lighter purple, almost pink, hair that was unrestrained and flew freely with the wind. A sort of innocent, naive mannerism was present in her every action. Yet, to the assuming, she would surprise them with toughness reminiscent of her sister. Indeed, such vitality and stamina was necessary to wield her heavy MPBL, which doubled as a blade and a gun. Out of all of the CPU candidates, and even out of the legitimate CPUs, Purple Sister could be considered the one that best fits the title of "Jill-of-all-trades". She slices through bone and marrow at close range, while delivering a bunker-busting shot at long range. She can focus her inner magical force and transform it into a healing force, fighting force, or defensive force much like how the Lowee twins can. The combination of Purple Sister's endurance and her defensive magic allowed her to survive the onslaught of bullets by the now-deceased terrorists.

The two flew high into the air, above the canopy of the woods. Free of obstacles, they jetted toward the Basilicom in Planeptune.

* * *

"Histoire, those terrorists claimed to be from Lastation. It's strange. I've never heard of such a group until now," stated Purple Heart.

In the meeting room of the Basilicom, steaming hot cups of coffee sat on the table in front of Purple Heart; Purple Sister; and Histoire, the Oracle of Planeptune.

"Lastation, you say. That certainly is strange, Neptune," commented Histoire.

Only two chairs were at the table, one of each for the two goddesses. Histoire was, put simply, a book. Her manifested self — that is, body — sat on top of a mysterious archive of the world — that is, an open book.

"Your quest took you two over to the edge of the Planeptune sovereignty, correct?" asked Histoire.

"Yes, it is as you say, Histy," affirmed Purple Heart, "We were out near the eastern border close to Lastation when we noticed those suspicious figures. They opened fire when we tried to approach them."

"Um, their gear, their rifles in particular, looked a lot like the ones at the gun shop that Uni goes to," added Purple Sister.

Purple Sister nervously sipped her coffee. It wasn't the first time that she was at the boundary between life and death, but it was the first time that she was confronted with armed human criminals.

Histoire rubbed her forehead and spoke gravely, "This is terrible. We've been receiving a record number of asylum-seekers this past year, and now terrorists pop up. It's like someone sent them to eliminate those refugees."

"Yes, that's all the more reason we need to ramp up our efforts to help those poor children out," said Purple Sister with gusto, "It's dangerous where they came from. We can't let this place be dangerous too."

Both Histoire and Purple Heart turned over to look at Purple Sister with serious expressions.

"Nepgear, I—"

Purple Heart suddenly cut off and shook her head.

"No, it's nothing," she said, "Nepgear, what you're doing is good for now, especially for public relations. But don't do anything reckless, and you be a little careful, okay?"

"I understand, Onee-chan. But really, when people are suffering, sometimes I need to go the extra mile too, you know?" responded Purple Sister.

Purple Sister's smile bloomed like a lilac. With that, Purple Heart and Histoire released their tensions.

"I agree with Neptune, but it's probably not going to cause anything major," said Histoire, "Anyway, I think that should be everything."

"Is that so? Finally... I can turn back now, right...?" asked Purple Heart in fatigue.

Histoire nodded. With a charming, elegant smile, Purple Heart disengaged her processor units and returned to human form. Neptune — that is, Purple Heart — wore not the mature smile of her goddess form but an almost cheeky, child-like grin.

"Wahoo! You have no idea how tiring it is to sit through a meeting AFTER doing a quest, Histy!" exclaimed Neptune as she pounded on the table, sending several drops of coffee flying out of her mug, "Can't you just see how tired I am?"

"O-Onee-chan, you're not being very convincing," said an untransformed Nepgear — that is, Purple Sister — as she automatically began wiping the table with a dry cloth.

Histoire's head began to ache for a reason different than the quest.

"This is exactly why I wanted you to stay transformed," said Histoire in exasperation, "Maybe I should force you to transform when it's time for you to do the paperwork."

"Nooooo! I already fall asleep as it is! Do you want me to be so tired that I fall into a coma or something?" pestered Neptune.

"O-Onee-chan, you're still not being convincing at all," said Nepgear before she gave a nervous laughter.

* * *

Any leader of the modern Gamindustri will have many responsibilities that may even extend past security and legislature. For Nepgear, she enjoyed branching out occasionally to humanitarianism.

Planeptune, the land of purple progress, prided itself on being the most modern and most humanitarian nation in Gamindustri. For one, Planeptune took many more refugees than any other nation during the great console wars of the past, a time before the current era of peace brought about by the friendship of Neptune, Noire, Blanc and Vert. One of the core reasons why Planeptune took in so many refugees was its no-questions, innocent-before-proven-guilty approach. The philosophy was like this: only when people are successfully taken in and comfortably housed is when they are screened.

Nepgear took pride in Planeptune's precedent-forming humanitarianism.

Yet, the sudden surge of refugees was large enough to overwhelm even Planeptune's efforts. Though there were no shortage of hands-on volunteers and workers, the bottleneck laid in the processing and administration steps. Nepgear, a technological prodigy, took it upon herself to improve the processing infrastructure by developing new software, and even suggesting changes to hardware.

On the day-to-day basis, however, Nepgear also participated in the office grunt-work as well. The maker of software and writer of scripts would be one of the people who would most efficiently utilize them after all.

Nepgear sat herself in front of a computer in the Immigrations office of the Basilicom. Three 4K resolution monitors spread out in front of her. As fuel, she had pudding, as recommended by her connoisseur of a sister.

"Talking about spreadsheets and the like won't be too interesting to the readers, ahahaha..."

After saying that silly line, Nepgear stretched her arms toward the sky. With a sigh, she began working.

To make things easier, Nepgear's program automatically prioritized women and children, even auto-completing certain parts of the processing for them. It was of Nepgear's and other official's belief that these vulnerable groups of people were of top priority and of the lowest risk.

"This past year, there's been plenty of male children coming in. Way more than before. Having it all go through the automatic line actually reduces my work load by a bit, though it's still way more to do in total compared to last year."

Nepgear's heart surged with glee. She thought of the thousands of bone-thin children escaping dangerous lands suddenly smiling when they receive a bowl of soup. It made her efforts feel worthwhile. She would like to see it in-person, but she hasn't done so since last year, given her workload.

With renewed vigour, Nepgear sought to get more and more refugees processed, to approve more and more.

* * *

"Nepgear, please wake up."

A tiny hand repeatedly shook Nepgear's shoulder. Her body, lying on top of her keyboard, shook once. She slowly rose up. Her consciousness awoke at the same time that her computer, experiencing input, returned from sleep mode.

"For goodness' sake, Nepgear, please do not fall asleep like that. You share the silliest things with your sister, though she would be falling asleep with a game controller in her hand instead."

Histoire was pouting behind her. Turning around, Nepgear gave a cat-like yawn.

"I'm sorry, Histy, I got a little carried away, ahaha..." tiredly spoke Nepgear.

"It's a good thing that it's a day off for you today. Heaven knows what would happen if you keep overworking yourself like this," complained Histoire.

"That's right, today is..."

Histoire tilted her head and asked, "Did you have something planned?"

"Yes!" said an eagerly nodding Nepgear, "Today I will be touring a refugee camp!"

* * *

Just outside of the city proper was a fenced flat piece of land with hundreds of tents. Guards were stationed at its few entrances, and additional officers patrolled inside the land itself. One could also spot workers bearing the purple Planeptune uniforms wandering about. However, outnumbering both the guards and civilian workers were people dressed in far dirtier, even raggedy clothes. These were the refugees.

Nepgear stood in front of a gate, waiting for one of the staff to let her in. As part of the security measures, only a small group of approved people were allowed in on their own, and an even smaller group of people had the authority to approve others for a temporary visit.

A meek mouse nervously approached Nepgear. It was not a metaphor; she was a literal mouse, similar to the likes of Warechu and Chuuko.

"U-Um, Our Exalted Goddess Purple Sister of Planeptune?"

Nepgear was taken aback and waved her hands in desperation.

"N-No no, just call me Nepgear! Nepgear is fine," she said hastily.

"O-Oh, is that so? What a relief," said the mouse before she breathed a sigh of relief.

Nepgear cleared her throat and said, "Anyway, I want to meet the children..."

The mouse hesitated for a moment.

"Y-Yes, right this way."

Nepgear and the mouse walked along the road bordered by numerous tents. Several young adult males were loitering around. If Nepgear could make a guess, the youngest person she saw was probably around the age of 17. There were hardly any women around. In fact, the only women were the workers.

"Have you been treating these children well?" asked Nepgear.

"Ah..."

The mouse suddenly stopped for some reason. Nepgear tilted her head in confusion. The mouse shook her head rapidly and pressed onwards. Nepgear almost broke into a jog to catch up.

"What's wrong?" asked a concerned Nepgear.

"N-No, nothing..." the mouse quietly responded, "We've been treating them... as well as anyone can possibly..."

They continued walking in a strange silence. Nepgear couldn't find an opportunity to probe.

After a while, they encountered two young men standing in the middle of the road. They had beards and unshaven faces. Their muscles could be seen in places where their raggedy clothes were torn.

"Hey, the Planeptune person there!" yelled out one of the men, "We lost. Help get us back, 'cause starving!"

Nepgear asked the mouse, "Do you know where those guys came from?"

"Yes, I do know..." said the mouse.

She did not elaborate. She then beckoned towards the two males to follow her and Nepgear. The mouse was at a distance away forward.

As they continued forward, the two men hung closely to Nepgear. When she looked behind her, the two men increased their gap by two steps. She turned her head back forward. She could hear their breathing. One of them grasped onto a tuft of her lush, purple hair.

"U-Um, excuse me, mister..."

"Hmm? What do you? Little Planeptune girl. This is very nice. Mmm..."

Nepgear's spine shivered. Sweat oozed out of her pores. She opened the gap between her and the men by many steps. She went over to the mouse and whispered in her ear.

"Hey, um, those guys, they just—"

"Please, just forgive them. I beg you," pleaded the mouse.

Nepgear became speechless. The plea of the mouse completely contradicted with what a law-abiding, careful caretaker of foreigners should do. Perhaps Nepgear was misunderstanding something. Nepgear stayed with the mouse, keeping that lengthened distance from the men.

"Nepgear, we are here — where the children are."

All around Nepgear were young men. Some of them sat on chairs or stumps, staring mindlessly at the sky. Some argued with each other, insulting them and swearing. A few pushed and shoved each other around, though they would be physically separated by guards before it escalated into a fistfight.

"Oh, yes. Um, where are the children?" asked Nepgear in confusion.

"These _are_ the children," replied the mouse.

The two men that were behind them walked past them, intentionally brushing Nepgear's hair in the process. Their touch left behind a foul stench. They headed into a tent in the so-called children's area.

"What do you mean? They're adults," said Nepgear.

The mouse spoke so silently that only Nepgear could hear, "Perhaps. But they are _registered_ as children."

"Registered... how...?"

Sparks of ideas took slight form at the edge of the mind of software-developer Nepgear, but she was afraid to piece them together.

"I— they were approved, because... we really can't not... even if we know they aren't..."

The mouse trailed off. She was shaking in fear and nervousness. She could not say it, not even to just one person.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

A woman screamed nearby, but her cry was swiftly muffled. In an instant, Nepgear unsheathed and erected her beam sword. She dashed around to the back side of a tent where that scream came from.

Nepgear's jaw dropped like a rock.

One of the muscular, bearded _children_ restrained a worker woman. His right hand covered her mouth, preventing her from speaking. Both of the woman's hand grasped at that hand, attempting to pull the _child_ 's hand off. His left hand reached under her shirt. With violent, savage motions, he had his way with her bosom.

There was no excuse to be made, no misunderstanding to be had. Purple Sister — that is, Nepgear — realized that she had unconsciously transformed.

Purple Sister did not wield her MPBL. She did not need it for the scum in front of her. Before that _man_ could react, Purple Sister dashed with god-ascended speed up to him. She rent his hands away from the woman's mouth and chest and punched him in the face. Blood splattered onto the side of a tent. He fell onto the ground. Before he could stand back up, Purple Sister crushed his stomach with her heel. Red vomit erupted from his mouth, and he lost consciousness. Whether he was still alive or dead was of no concern to Purple Sister.

The woman, freed from her assaulter, kneeled on the ground and sobbed into her hands.

"This... This isn't what I... It's so... surreal..." muttered Purple Sister.

* * *

Truth truly was stranger than fiction. Fiction was based on man's or goddess's imagination. Fiction was wrapped up and communicated in a way that lets others unravel and understand using their own imagination. That is, fiction was within the confines of what one could imagine. Of course, reality did not follow such rules. What could transpire in reality did not need to be imaginable; it could be stranger than what was imaginable.

Nepgear was lying down on her bed. She stared at the blank screen of her N-Gear.

"It's like we couldn't see what was right in front of us," muttered Nepgear.

She rolled onto her side. Her hair was a mess, and several strands entered her mouth.

Assumptions. Women and children. Automation. Software. It was a result of Nepgear's mad rush late into nights. She put out food for hungry birds and attracted a pack of beasts.

Yet, it was not just Nepgear who was blind. No, there were those who chose to be blind. The worker mouse from earlier that day decided that they were _children_. Nepgear did not see any major concerns brought up anywhere in the Immigration department as she worked. Perhaps even the whole department was blind.

Then, who wasn't blind? How broadly did Nepgear need to think? What if it was all of Planeptune?

"Nepgear, you don't need to think so hard about it... except we kind've do because we're the goddesses and all."

Neptune, her older sister, stepped into the room and sat down on Nepgear's bed.

"Onee-chan, what is wrong with us?"

Nepgear put down her N-Gear. She sat up and hugged her knees.

"I dunno. Maybe it's 'cuz we're in Planeptune after all. You know, the 'land of purple progress'," said Neptune while shrugging.

"What do you mean by that?" questioned Nepgear.

"Umm, you know. Trying to get everyone included all of the time, the whole tolerance thing, respecting people, all of the fancy words associated with it," said Neptune as she flailed her legs, "My point is, our arms could be a little too open for our own good."

Neptune turned to Nepgear. Neptune wore a radiant, sunshiny smile that no mere mortal could ever hope to emulate.

"You didn't mean for the wrongdoings, Nepgear. What you wanted to do was good. It's just that having the ideals won't always help us do it right. Ah, I can already hear Histoire and Noire yelling at me to get my working butt into shape."

"Ideals... and doing it right..." murmured Nepgear.

"You're still a candidate, so it's no wonder that you're brimming with ideals," said Neptune, "Don't worry about it. Learning how exactly to do things will come with experience. Though, you'll have to want it too."

Neptune leaped off of the bed and landed on her feet. Unusually for her, she made a most regal stance and bowed before Nepgear.

"That'll take a while, so in the meantime, you have me, Histoire, and everyone else to help you shape whatever vision you have, okay?"

Tears ran down Nepgear's reddened face. Nepgear was happy, so very happy, to have someone tell her that she was not completely wrong, that she was not headed off in a dangerous direction.

"Okay, Onee-chan... I will let you have some of my burden... for the sake of what I believe in."

There was much to do. Procedures had to be checked, priorities needed to be made, and realities had to be acknowledged. But for now, Nepgear gave herself up to simple joy, letting her weary soul replenish and richen.


	3. Lowee

**Lowee: Blood, Sweat and Jeers**

The sea glistened under a resplendent sun. As far as the eye could see, shimmering waters stretched vastly, inviting one to fathom the depths and distance of the world.

Interfacing with the sea was the snow white and sharp ice shores of Lowee. The virgin frost existed in all of its crispiness thanks to the seemingly perpetual arctic climate of Lowee. Even with a sun unimpeded by clouds, the air remained cool, and the average citizen wore three layers of clothing.

Two girls pranced around on the snowy beach. Far from wearing three layers, the two could not even be considered to be wearing one layer of clothing. Indeed, they had nothing on but a swimsuit.

"Ahahahaha! It's been way too long since we came here, Rom!" the rambunctious one said.

"Mmm. Too long, Ram," the quieter one spoke.

It hardly needed to be said, but the two of them, the CPU Candidates of Lowee, were out on their day off to frolic in the snow and to splash water at each other. The two were able to stand around during a day where the temperature was far below zero degrees thanks to their self-enveloping heat magic. It could be said that their caretaker Mina rationalized today's trip giving the twins a chance to practice such magic. It could also be said that the twins could not wait for a warmer day to arrive to have fun at the sea.

"Rom! Let's go over there. Maybe we can find something cool under the snow," said Ram as she pointed at a rocky area.

"I hope for... shiny..."

A thick layer of snow piled a couple feet above the solid ground. An ordinary human would have no choice but to shovel the snow aside. But the twins were no ordinary humans.

Rom focused her magic into her wand. A medium-sized fireball appeared at its tip, and she kept the flame sustained. Likewise, Ram also conjured a fireball. With a bit of sweat appearing on their foreheads due to the heavy concentration required, they flamed the snow, melting it away. Before long, water flowed toward the sea, and sand was visible.

The sand was cool enough to touch. The fact that the ground was not molten was a testament to the twin's ever-improving control of their immense magic. If their caretaker were present, she would have scored the both of them an A+.

The twins scavenged at the sands. They picked up pieces of clam shells and funny-looking rocks, among other interesting things.

"Huuuh, so that's what yer up to..."

Ram and Rom turned around at that sudden, unfamiliar voice. Looking over them was a woman on the large side with artificially dyed red-and-blue hair and piercings on her ears, lips and nose.

"Umm... hello..." timidly spoke Rom.

"Rom, wait, Onee-chan told us not to talk to strangers," warned Ram.

"Oh, well, like, I ain't anything dangerous," said the red-and-blue-haired large woman, "I mean, I go to the Lowee Magic Academy and all."

With a heavy pant, she extracted her wallet from her back pocket and showed the twins her student ID. She licked her lips and gulped.

"So, all this magic that we're strugglin' with, and you two use it for this, hmm?" said the large woman.

"Mmhmm! It's break time, and we love to play at the beach!" exclaimed Ram.

"...Fuck that," spat the large woman.

"Eh?"

Ram and Rom froze at that unexpected rudeness. Without saying anything more, the large woman slowly turned around and sauntered off.

It was not like Ram and Rom were unfamiliar with the unpleasant vernacular, given the foul mouth of White Heart. However, it was the first time that someone displayed their dirtiness so quickly, openly and directly to the twins.

* * *

The twins returned to the Basilicom with half-full bags. Their caretaker, Mina, a tall, slender woman with a motherly aura, as well as the oracle of Lowee, met them at the front door.

She greeted them heartily, "Oh? Rom, Ram, you two returned early. Perhaps you are hungry?"

"Oh. Mmm. A little hungry," quietly replied Rom.

Mina tilted her head in confusion. Even for Rom, the two acted rather aloof.

Mina led the twins into the dining hall. Freshly-baked bread and hot Loweean vegetable soup were laid out on the table. The twins put aside their bags, sat down and ate silently.

"U-Um, don't forget that we have the performance at the Magic Academy later today," awkwardly spoke Mina.

Ram finally spoke up, "Ah! I guess we can show off how cool we are soon! Isn't that great, Rom?"

"Mmm! I really want to show off my big ice," replied Rom with a smile.

However, her smile quickly faded.

"Lowee Magic Academy, huh..." muttered Rom.

Ram chimed in, "Rom, we need to forget about it. Maybe even _she_ will think we are cool!"

Rom nodded. She buried her mouth in a slice of buttered bread.

"Um, if I may ask, what exactly is going on?" asked Mina with a strained smile.

"Oh, nooothiiiing. Don't worry," said Ram, giving it no further thought.

Ram began furiously spooning soup into her mouth.

Mina's motherly instincts flared up, and she almost went into a worrywart tirade. However, she recently decided to give Rom and Ram a little more independence, under the recent orders from their older sister Blanc.

 _They'll hit a snag, and they'll punch their way through it. That'll toughen them right up. You'll see._

While it was part of the maturation process for the Candidate kids, Mina hoped that the resolution of such a snag will be met with not brute force but mental force.

* * *

Two children stood on the large stage in the theatre. Countless young adult eyes focused their attention on the duo. Expectations abounded among the silent whispers. Yet, the two that were on stage stood firmly right on top of the tension as if they were balancing themselves on a taut rope.

A spotlight fell on the duo, and they simultaneously raised their staves. The one on the right, with hair as blue as an ocean, smiled shyly. The one on the left, with hair as pink as candy, grinned widely. Their titles were White Sister Rom and White Sister Ram respectively.

There was no reason for the White Sisters to hesitate. After all, mixed in with the audience was Mina, their caretaker, and Blanc, their older sister. The two of them waved.

The spotlight served its purpose of signalling the start of the show, and it gradually faded, leaving the theatre in near pitch blackness. Then, the blackness was dispelled with pillars of bright, orange flame emanating from the twins' staves. The flames swirled and swirled as if they were constrained in a narrow cylinder.

Two workers brought in large torches and placed them in front of the twins. Subsequently, the twins brought their swirling pillars of fire close to the torches. With a fwoosh, the torches erupted and burned with an ardour that matched the fire of the White Sisters.

Suddenly a wooden table was hurled from the darkened side of the stage at the White Sisters. The audience gasped. Yet, White Sister Rom merely raised her staff in response. A powerful gust of wind halted the table's flight. The two goddess candidates stepped backwards, and the table slowly levitated to the front of them.

White Sister Ram raised her staff high above her head. Moisture from the air skipped past condensation and deposited around her staff. Yet the ice that formed around that long staff was not chunky and crude. Far from it. In seconds, a spectacular sword of ice glistened above her head. Lowee's expertise in ice magic culminated in this beautiful sword of hoarfrost — Icecalibur.

It also held a power befitting of its majestic appearance.

White Sister Ram effortlessly swung down. With a loud thud, the table was violently crushed along the centre, and its uneven, splintered halves spread apart, falling to the side. White Sister Rom summoned more gusts to sweep the messy pieces of table to the back.

White Sister Ram stepped back, letting White Sister Rom take the attention. With a wave of her staff, moisture deposited in the space in front of her, much like what had occurred with her sister. Yet, instead of a sword of ice, a simple cube of ice formed.

The freshmen in the crowd barely stirred, with the most motion from them being a tilt of the head in confusion. Yet, the seniors and professors began whispering excitedly to each other.

The dimensions of the cube were perfect in every way. Every angle was sharply right. Each edge was blade-like straight. The simplicity was astounding. One could only ponder at its other properties. For instance, how durable was this magically perfected ice?

Chunks of the ice cube were blown away and dissipated to mist. In that one swift motion, the shape of a table identical to the wooden one broken by White Sister Ram took form. Two smaller ice cubes formed at opposite sides of the table, and they, too, experienced the instantaneous sculpting. They became translucent blue office chairs, everyday objects made extraordinary by magic.

The two goddess candidates sat on the chairs. They leaned in on the table towards each other, grinned and made peace signs. V for victory.

The audience erupted in applause. Cheers and whistles filled the auditorium. For many of the students, their desire to improve their magic was set by their aspiration to reach goddess-like proficiency. Events like these both drew awe and instilled purpose, for many of the majors.

Of course, the Academy had a diverse palette of curricula. Not all students shared the excitement. There were even a few students who resented it.

A large woman slowly stomped up the stairs at the side of the stage and walked up. With heavy breathing, she marched right up to the twins and pointed her meatloaf index finger at them.

White Sister Ram was taken aback and said, "H-Huh? It's you, from yesterday."

Indeed, the woman had red-and-blue hair and multiple piercings. There was fury in her eyes, amplified from the mere annoyance yesterday.

Upon seeing that woman on the stage, the audience ceased cheering and whispered to each other in confusion.

"You think that yer all big hotshots, aren't ya?" cried the beastlike woman.

She stomped her feet and contorted her face such that wrinkles appeared on her flabs.

"All that shit yer fuckin' pullin' off, betcha it just came naturally, ain't it?" she said as spit flew out of her mouth, "Betcha never had a hard day in yer life."

She took a moment to huff and puff. White Sister Rom instinctively clung to her sister's hand.

"It's real incredible that you privileged brats are coming over here and making us commoners feel like shit, don't ya think?"

The gluttonous woman turned to the audience, having usurped the stage.

"Look at this! It's all about the fuckin' goddess privilege. They come here to be putting us in our places and stuff. They don't really care about us. Hell, they ain't workin' half as hard as us. Why are we bothering to even look at these pampered brats?"

"No! Rom and I— we worked hard to prepare and... that day was because it was the first time in a while..."

White Sister Ram started out loud, but upon seeing the giant woman's piercing, haughty glare, she became subdued.

"Shut the hell up! We don't gotta listen to you because you're fuckin' goddesses! You've been oppressing us all this while. Some of us can't be like you, so why you gotta come over here and make us feel like ants?"

"Um... we didn't mean anything bad..." muttered White Sister Rom.

The large woman put a hand to her head and shook her head multiple times in disdain.

"Oh, this is no good. They ain't listening to a word I'm saying," she said, with an exaggeratedly depressed tone, "Like fuck, that's just what ya get for having goddesses at the top."

"Hey, that's enough."

A security guard came on stage, grabbed hold of the woman's meaty arms, and handcuffed her forcibly.

"Ah, hey! Let me go! You're gonna break my phone! This is literally rape right now. I'm being raped!"

Several more security guards ascended to the stage to help with the subjugation. The audience became even more confused. A few of the people in the audience, similarly as fat and extraordinarily coloured as the woman on the stage, hurled verbal curses at the security guards on stage while trying to push forward to the front.

There was great pandemonium. The White Sisters merely stood at the side of the stage in shock.

"Ram, what happened? This wasn't... our show is..."

"I don't know. Keep holding onto my hand, Rom."

* * *

The interrogation room had no real decor. All there was in the blank white room was a simple table and a few chairs. There wasn't a need to treat the eyes of a criminal. Nothing was what they deserved.

The large woman who had disrupted the candidates' show sat at one end of the table. Her face was bruised, and her arms were bandaged up. She was given a plain grey t-shirt and black pants because her clothes were ripped apart in the confrontation. The clothes gripped far too tightly on her body because her body's dimensions were unprecedentedly large.

On the other end sat the untransformed Rom, Ram, and their older sister Blanc. Their overprotective sister took it upon herself to personally interrogate the large woman.

"You and I both know exactly why you're here. Lowee recognizes your right to protest, but what you did is taking things too far," spoke Blanc in an almost monotone voice.

The large woman silently and docilely nodded while looking down at the table.

"You know what, forget about finding out the details. I'm taking advantage of formalities," admitted Blanc, "We're here because I've simply got a few choice words for you."

Blanc crossed her arms and asked, "So, about what you said on the stage, let's talk about it. Explain this 'privilege'."

The large woman meekly replied, "'C-Cause you was like... just bigger than us and can get all the good stuff easy, and we commoners don't got none of that. A-And in the past, like we learned of Tari in them classes, and the CPU there, she treatin' us all like shit, so y'all goddess gotta apologize and stuff..."

She raised her head and looked at Blanc before saying, "I-I mean, I didn't do anything wrong, 'cause you got this privilege which cancels it out, and ya still need to recognize the privilege to apologize to us for Tari..."

Blanc slammed the table with her fist. The large woman hurriedly looked down.

"Oh, what the hell, that's the most insane thing I've heard in my entire fricken life!" roared Blanc, switching from her soft monotone to her raging beast-like voice.

Blanc stood up, anchored her hands on the table and leaned forward. Rom and Ram looked at their sister in shock.

"What makes you think we have to apologize for the bad things a CPU of a long lost nation did ages and ages ago!? I care much more about my people of the present, and I would have rectified or am willing to further rectify anything that carried over from that era, but don't treat me the same as Tari's wretched goddess!"

Blanc slammed the table once again. It creaked under the strength of the physically strongest goddess in all of Gamindustri.

"Yeah, we're better-off than you people. We're far from being in poverty, and we can actually take a hit from a weapon rather than you folk who would die instantly. I get it. But that's no reason to spit on the honest hard work of Rom and Ram!"

Blanc breathed heavily after yelling out all of those lines. She slowly sat back down on her chair.

"I said all that. Those were my arguments. But, I want you to open your eyes for just one moment and look."

Blanc pointed at the twin sisters beside her. The large woman slowly turned her gaze over to them.

"They're children for goodness' sake."

The woman immediately cast away her eyes in shame. Her body literally shook, signifying her conflict.

Rom and Ram, rather than being frightened, looked at the woman with pity.

* * *

The sun had set. The streets of Lowee, blanketed in snow, were warmly illuminated by the street lights. Snowflakes gently added to the blanket on the streets as they fell from the skies in star-like numbers.

The goddess of Lowee and her candidates sat on a bench that had a roof over top, a common sight in the perpetually snowing Lowee. Blanc warmed her hands and her body with the lightly sweetened and lightly creamed coffee in her hands. Ram filled her mouth with piping hot takoyaki. Rom opted for taiyaki, as her sweet tooth was ever-so-slightly larger than her twin sister's.

Blanc, in her ordinary monotone, spoke, "Mmm. You two did well today."

"Yeah! Right?" exclaimed Ram.

"Onee-chan, thank you," muttered Rom.

Several people walked by, tending to their own businesses, whether in solemn, silent walking, or in cheer with friends. None of them paid any heed to the three most powerful individuals in all of Lowee sitting in this public area.

 _The duty of a goddess requires making herself well-known, but I really prefer it to be this way_ , thought Blanc.

"Rom, Ram, what are your plans after this? You two going to hold more shows at the Academy?" asked Blanc.

Their response was immediate.

"Yup!"

"Mmhmm!"

"Really, now? Even after all that?" asked Blanc with a wry smile.

"Well, we gotta come even more now to show off how hard we've been doing it!" exclaimed Ram.

"And that lady from before... I hope she's okay, too," said Rom.

"Haha. As always," cheerfully spoke Blanc, deviating a bit from her monotone, "Don't change that about yourselves, you hear?"

Ram piped up, "Ah, Rom! Let me have a bite out of your taiyaki!"

"Okay... but only if you give me one of your takoyaki," said Rom, "And, Onee-chan, I'm thirsty. Can I have some of your coffee?"

"'Aren't you a bit too young?' is what I'd normally say, but what the heck. Why not let Onee-chan warm you up once in a while," replied Blanc.

"Mmm!"

There were times where those who carried the title of "goddess" would be obligated to carry out their tough duties. There were times when their strength would act as a weakness as it elevated these goddesses beyond the reach of their subjects.

Yet, such thoughts became as mush before the sight of the family of three playfully feeding each other and laughing with each other.


End file.
